


evoking spirits

by mihaly



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Barebacking, Flashbacks, M/M, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-11
Updated: 2016-03-11
Packaged: 2018-05-26 00:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6216247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mihaly/pseuds/mihaly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander Hamilton's spirit had laid dormant for such a long time. It wasn't until he bumped into an old friend that he realized exactly what he had been missing.</p><p>Lams Reincarnation AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	evoking spirits

**Author's Note:**

> So this is something different! I wanted to write something and Hannah gave me this idea, so I took it and ran with it. It was really nice to write something other than (hhh)eoy. I hope you all enjoy it!

There was a loud buzzing in his head, then _woosh_ , then Silence. Darkness.

Then, blinking blearily into the bright lights of the operating room, Alexander Hamilton was reborn – as Alexander Hernandez – after a 186-year hiatus.

Alexander Hernandez was a cute, rambunctious boy who spoke his mind. His parents struggled to contain him as he grew up in Brooklyn. He never took naps, often sprinted off in stores, and talked to strangers. As he grew older, he got into fights on the playground. His little fists never hurt as much as his words could. He was top of his class, despite being a pest to his teachers sometimes. Alex Hernandez was ambitious and driven and never stopped.

All the while, the spirit of Alexander Hamilton lay dormant in his mind.

Alex paid with cash all the time; it was much simpler than credit cards. But he never paid any mind to the bills in his hands. He never studied the faces on his money with any reverence. They were just some problematic dead white men who lived hundreds of years before him. How could they possibly relate to his struggles as a working class Latino kid in Brooklyn?

It took a field trip to The Grange and staring into the eyes of a bust of Alexander Hamilton himself that made Alex Hernandez stop in his tracks.

That was _him_. _He_ was Alexander Hamilton.

He spent the rest of the field trip _remembering_ The Grange. He remembered walking through the home with Eliza – his Betsey – and his gaggle of children. He remembered his late nights writing at his desk, literally burning the midnight oil. He also remembered the house being in a different location – this was not where he built his home. _Why had they moved his home?_

It was like someone had just opened the windows on an abandoned house to let the sunlight in, then immediately started moving in.

Then some of the not-so-nice memories flooded in.

His mother dying. His cousin dying. His Laurens dying. His son dying.

_His own death._

Alexander threw up on the subway ride home. He held his mother and father tight that night, crawling into bed with them despite being nearly 17 years old.

He saw the ten-dollar bill much differently after that day. 

Alexander Hernandez was Alexander Hamilton reincarnate. Stranger things had happened.

* * *

 

It took another decade after his realization for Alex to bump into anyone his spirit recognized. He made a lot of great friends – Amber, Jorge, Emmalinda, Matt – who were all incredible and amazing people from this lifetime. He had a couple girlfriends and boyfriends along the way. The relationships were often short-lived because he knew his heart would only settle if he met his Eliza or his Laurens.

Oh, how he couldn’t wait to see both of them again.

It was only a matter of time.

And it was then, in a tiny coffee shop that it happened.

They were waiting in line, and Alex leaned across the man in front of him to grab a copy of that day’s _New York Times_. There was a big spread across the front of the paper about the growing pains – both positive and negative – the city was going through after accepting thousands of Syrian refugees.

“Excuse me, sir, I just need to get—“

The man stepped aside to give Alex room and their eyes met.

It was tingling feeling that started in his toes and climbed up his body like rapidly growing ivy. It was the Marquis de Lafayette in the living flesh, standing in front of him at a coffee shop.

Alex gasped.

“Lafayette?!”

“ _Hamilton?!_ ”

Lafayette – or in this life, Gil Guillory – was a tall half-black, half-Jewish man with a seemingly endless amount of hair. The Hero of Two Worlds was just as flamboyant, sharp, and witty as Alexander remembered him. He had apparently come to the realization of who he was on his first step on American soil when he was 5, having emigrated from France. He never left America after that. It was his second chance at the American life.

They spent the rest of the day sitting in Central Park, discussing their lives both past and present. It was amazing how easily they fell back into the same banter as they had in the late 1700s as aide-de-camps.

“I can’t believe the odds the gods would put us in one spot,” Alexander sighed as he flopped back on the grass beside Lafayette. “I wish we could unite the whole Gay Trio.”

“It’s amazing how that word has changed to mean something different in the 21st Century.”

“Speaking of 21st Century gay, did you know John and I were fucking in our tent at Valley Forge?” Alex asked with a smirk.

“How could I forget the stench in that space, Alexander!” Lafayette laughed. Alex propped himself up.

“You knew?!”

“Of course I did, Ham!” the Marquis continued. “You were all eyes for him. I was surprised to hear you married Eliza Schuyler considering your deep and unending love for John Laurens.”

Alex sighed and went back to staring at the clouds.

“You know why. Most of the men in Washington’s camp turned a blind eye to us – like you apparently did – but I loved her too. Just… in a different way. More of a round kind of love, whereas John was a sharp love. She was a good girl and was able to provide children, a task neither John or I could do together or by ourselves— What are you laughing at?”

“I see Alexander Hernandez is just as verbose as Alexander Hamilton.”

“I wish I could see him again,” Alex murmured. “I would love to be able to hold him and kiss him and love him the way he always deserved. The way I was afforded with Eliza but never him. I loved him just as much.”

He swore he saw John’s face in the clouds disappear as quickly as it appeared.

Lafayette rolled onto his side to look at Alexander.

“What if I were to tell you I’ve met John Laurens in this lifetime?” he said softly. Alex looked to Lafayette whose eyes were bright and honest.

The bottom dropped out of his stomach.

“He’s here? In New York City?”

“You know that thing you said about the odds and gods and whatnot?”

Alex nodded enthusiastically. 

“John’s my roommate.”

* * *

 

As he stood in Lafayette’s kitchen, Alexander couldn’t stop staring at John Lorenzo, a devastatingly gorgeous Puerto Rican man with thick curls down to his shoulders and a smile that was so bright it was certainly the cause of global warming.

He was just as beautiful as when Alexander met him in 1777.

From the moment Alexander walked into the apartment, John was flirting with him. His body language was all light touches and shy glances. Even after two centuries apart, they couldn’t keep their eyes off each other. The 21st Century was blessing them with the ability to be their authentic queer selves.

John talked endlessly about the protest the Graduate Latino Student Union was organizing against unfair immigration practices, then to how rude Harriet was during lunch that day, then to how he could never match his father’s arroz con gandules.

“But I’m going to get him to send me the recipe, mark my words, Alex,” John laughed as he pointed a saucy spoon at him.

Alexander Hamilton was in love with John Laurens.

Alexander Hernandez was in love with John Lorenzo.

“Can’t wait to visit him over Labor Day weekend.”

“But you hate your father,” Alex said confusedly.

John gave him an equally confused look.

“No, I don’t,” he replied slowly. His eyes drifted over to Lafayette as if to ask who this weird man was standing in their kitchen.

Okay, yeah, he forgot this wasn’t _exactly_ his John Laurens.

“Can I talk to you in the other room, Gil?” Alexander said sharply, nodding toward the living room. As they exited the kitchen, John turned up his music – Kendrick Lamar – to give them some privacy.

Alex and Lafayette crowded into the corner of the small living room, as far from John as they could get.

“I thought you said this was John Laurens!” Alex whispered harshly.

“I did! It is! I just know it!” Lafayette said defensively. “He just doesn’t know it yet.”

“You mean he hasn’t had his realization?!”

“Well,” Lafayette replied hesitantly, “I thought if he met you that he’d figure it out!

“So you’re _using_ me?!”

“Don’t you want John Laurens back?”

“Guys! Dinner’s ready!” John called from the kitchen.

“Try harder, Hamilton,” Lafayette said pointedly as he jabbed a bony finger in Alex’s shoulder. 

With that, Lafayette turned on his heel and strode back into the kitchen to help John with plates. Alex gulped. What was he going to do?

* * *

 

Alexander stayed for dinner. John’s arroz con gandules was _delicious_. His mind raced back to the times they all sat in the mess, joking and plotting. It felt the same, too, except John wasn’t exactly John. It still didn’t make Alex’s fingers any less itchy, wanting to hold John’s hand or place a possessive hand on his knee.

But it was when John asked Alex if he wanted to stay to watch a movie that he knew this was it. He could _feel_ it. The look Lafayette gave him was encouragement enough.

So there they were, The Disjointed Gay Trio, sitting on the couch, watching _The Princess Bride_. Alex lied and said he hadn’t seen the movie. The way John lit up, excited to share this incredible film with someone for the first time, was beautiful. Lafayette made sure he was sitting on the far end of the couch to let him and John sit next to each other.

They were well into the movie when Alex began to notice how John was sitting. He was close to Alex with his hand stretching toward him on the couch cushion. Alex’s heart pounded in his chest. He had done that move before: put your hand close enough to a person and see if they take it. A risky move. A very John Laurens move.

Alex swore John had done this exact move in 1778.

Alexander edged his fingers across the leather to brush the tips against John’s skin. Pure electricity shot up Alex’s arm. John turned his hand over slowly to lace their fingers together and Alex’s heart nearly exploded.

He was _holding hands_ with _John Laurens_.

There wasn’t another place in the world or time Alex wanted to be.

And this had to be his John Laurens, who took risks and went all in. He had never met anyone in either lifetime who would have been this forward in first meeting someone. John Lorenzo was the perfect embodiment of John Laurens.

Some time later, they had shifted enough to where their shoulders were touching and his hand was in John’s lap, their fingers still tangled together. John’s thumb was gently stroking Alex’s and his body was _vibrating_ from the touch.

At some point, Lafayette got up from the couch and exited the room. John got a text message shortly after. After a deep breath, he slid his phone back onto the coffee table and shifted closer. Then, he sat up a little bit next to Alexander and turned to look at him.

In this life, it was John’s turn to have the freckles and the curls. Now he knew understood why his Laurens insisted on kissing his cheeks and nose as often as possible. Alex loved the smattering across John’s cheeks, the way they made him look so young and innocent.

John bit his lip as his eyes darted down to Alexander’s mouth. He leaned into Alex’s space and Alex could feel John’s warm breath against his lips.

Alex’s heart sped up.

“If you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me now,” John whispered.

“Oh god, fucking do it,” Alex replied, pressing their lips in a soft, breathy kiss.

He could feel the tingling down in his toes like he did when he met Lafayette. Except this was _fireworks_.

John Laurens had returned to him.

For the very first time since he visited The Grange, Alexander Hamilton felt at home. John Laurens’ sweet kisses made his heart sing and his head soar. He missed this for too long. Alex gently cupped John’s cheek, feeling the supple freckled skin under his palm. John dipped his tongue into Alex’s mouth and he tasted _wonderful_.

Then John was sitting up further and crowding Alexander against the couch, his erection pressed against Alexander’s thigh as he leaned over him. Alex whimpered. His John was rutting lightly against his thigh in the same way he used to when they had to be careful. He would rut against Alexander until Alex had to give in and touch him. He’d only do it when he felt safe, often under the guise of darkness as they shared a cot in the cramped aide-de-camp tent. So Alex knew he was desperate and felt safe with him.

But the sound of Lafayette shuffling around in his room reminded Alex they weren’t alone.

Reluctantly, Alex drew back. The warmth of John’s mouth lingered on his lips.

“We should probably stop for now,” Alex whispered.

“I don’t want to,” John answered with a delicate kiss on the lips and another press of his cock against Alex’s thigh. Just like his Laurens and his insistence to get a job done. He never had any patience when it came to Alexander Hamilton.

“I missed you,” Alex murmured against John’s lips.

“What?”

Alexander pulled his face back to properly look at John.

“I said I missed—“

But the knowing look in John’s eyes was absent.

He hadn’t kissed John Laurens, the man he loved then.

This was John Lorenzo, the man from today.

“—you.”

“You missed me?” John was very confused.

_Shit. Fuck. Goddammit._

This wasn’t his Laurens. This was a mistake.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that—“

“I mean, we might’ve met before. You do seem a little familiar,” John chuckled. He gently stroked at Alex’s thigh with a smile. “Do you go to any of the gay bars in Hell’s Kitchen?”

Alexander hoped his disappointment wasn’t visible on his face. Because while he was thrilled he had just kissed this absolutely beautiful man he was certain was John Laurens, the fact their kiss wasn’t enough to draw him out was heartbreaking.

“Uh, no,” Alex replied. “I mostly go to ones in Brooklyn, where I live.” John hummed in acknowledgment. He still stared at Alexander hungrily, famished.

“Do you want to take this back to my room where we can finish in private?” he purred, kissing Alex’s lower lip. While Alexander wanted more than anything to have sex with John Laurens after all this time, it just wasn’t _him_. Not yet, anyway.

“I can’t,” Alexander replied sadly. “And it’s not that I don’t want to because _dear god_ do I want to. I just…” John nodded.

“It’s that Gil is here, right?” he sighed. Obviously this had been a problem for John before. It was going to be the best out Alex was going to have all night.

“Yeah,” Alex lied. “I mean, we’ve been friends for so long, and while you’re gorgeous and amazing, I don’t want to subject him to certain sounds, you know?”

John looked sad Alex didn’t want to continue and Alex couldn’t stop himself from leaning over and kissing that frown off his lips.

“I would love to spend more time with you, though,” John offered. “Maybe some time outside, or inside, when Gil’s not here.”

“Are you asking me on a date, John Lorenzo?” The name felt foreign on Alex’s tongue.

“I am,” he replied shyly. It wasn’t like his John Laurens to be shy, but given they never had the chance when they were alive, it made sense to him. It was surprising that John Lorenzo wasn’t surer of himself, but maybe Alexander was getting close to John’s realization. Maybe he was feeling tremors of the realization on the horizon.

“Well, I can’t wait,” Alexander smiled.

John kissed him again, a short yet passionate peck on the lips. Alex dared to chase him. He wasn’t prepared to say goodbye to either John quite so soon. Because while John Laurens didn’t remember him, John Lorenzo was far too cute to give up on.

“I should probably get going,” Alex said softly. “Long subway ride back to Brooklyn.”

“That’s fair,” John said in response. His eyes darted down to Alex’s lips.

Apparently, John’s one-track mind came with him into this life, too.

As much as Alex wanted to fall into John’s kisses again, someone had to show restraint and it unfortunately had to be him. Without the pressure of being caught in their previous lives, this was possibly more dangerous. Alexander and John were _legally allowed_ to lose themselves in each other and Alexander never planned to consult a map.

“Do you want to say goodbye to Gil?” John breathed.

“Nah, I’m good,” Alexander said. “He’ll understand.”

_Lafayette always understood._

“Let me show you out, then.”

John stood from the couch and Alex could tell he was still physically reacting from their kissing if the lovely bulge in his jeans was anything to go by. Alexander was in a similar predicament, but unlike John, he had to sit on the subway for another hour. He wanted to hide somewhere and take care of his erection, but the walk to the subway would have to do.

Alex dutifully followed John to the door where John paused with his hand on the knob.

“I don’t know what it is, Alex Hernandez,” John murmured, “But I feel like we’ve met before this.”

_Because we have, John! John Laurens, it’s me! It’s Alexander Hamilton!_

“Are you talking maybe a past life?” Alex nudged. John’s brow creased.

“I don’t really believe in those, but perhaps I should reconsider.” The small smile on his lips was enough for Alexander. “I can’t wait to see you again.”

“Me either, John Lorenzo. Me either." 

Alex ducked in for one more kiss before exiting into the hallway to start his long, arduous journey home.

* * *

The subway ride was nothing but soothing. The gentle rock of the subway car lulled him into a calm he didn’t expect. Sure, John Laurens wasn’t drawn out by a kiss. He wasn’t Sleeping Beauty. Alex wasn’t complaining, though. If John Laurens couldn’t be lured out with a kiss, Alexander Hernandez was more than happy to keep kissing John Lorenzo because _holy shit_ could that man kiss.

_Perhaps better than John Laurens, actually. 21 st Century teachings have done him well._

Once Alexander was back in Brooklyn and walking back to his tiny apartment off Avenue M, he called Lafayette.

“Monsieur Hamilton!” said the cheery voice on the other end. Even with a new voice, his Lafayette was still recognizable.

“Monsieur Lafayette!” Alexander echoed in return as he suppressed a giggle. He hadn’t heard that greeting in centuries and oh, how it warmed his heart.

“How goes it?”

“Have you spoken to John?”

“No, he holed himself up in his room almost immediately after you left. Did you appreciate the alone time I gave you two?” Alex could almost hear the eyebrow waggle through the phone.

“I could’ve guessed it was you giving John that go-ahead via text,” Alexander said, shaking his head. Lafayette, always the considerate one. “He was very… _excited_ after that text.”

“I bet,” Lafayette said amusedly. Alexander imagined what Lafayette was thinking and it wasn’t pure. “So did it work?”

“He didn’t remember.”

“Are you kidding?! Nothing?!” he said, shocked. Alex sighed.

“There are glimmers, but nothing significant. He still only sees me as Alexander Hernandez and you as Gil Guillory.”

“Damn.”

It wasn’t necessarily _bad_ that John saw them as their current forms. It was how the rest of the world saw them and how they’d continue to be known. But the disappointment wasn’t lessened, not by a long shot.

“I hoped the reason he hadn’t come out of his room was because the realization was too much,” Lafayette said sadly.

“No. The reason he hasn’t come out of his room is because despite not mentally knowing he’s John Laurens and I’m Alexander Hamilton, his _dick_ certainly knows,” Alexander said suggestively as he rounded the corner to his apartment building.

“You tomcat!” he laughed, his laugh loud over the receiver.

“Oh, Lafayette,” Alexander cooed, “I think John Lorenzo might be a better kisser than John Laurens.” Lafayette only laughed harder. “His lips are so soft! Chapstick has been the greatest invention since our deaths! That, and the repeal of sodomy laws!”

There was near silence on the other end, but if the slight wheezes were any indication, Lafayette was doubled over laughing. Alex bounded up the steps to his apartment and went inside.

“Ah, I’ve missed you so much, Little Lion,” Lafayette choked out, his voice hiccupping from laughter.

“I’ve missed you too, Lafayette,” Alex sighed happily as he leaned against the doorframe. His home in this life was far less impressive than his last, but it was all his: a tiny studio apartment with a cat that had wandered in through his window and never left.

He couldn’t wait to show John.

Alex could faintly hear a knock in the distance over the receiver.

“Hold on,” Lafayette muttered quickly, then away from the phone, “Oui, oui, Monsieur Lorenzo?” The door creaked open.

“What is so funny in here?” Alex could just barely make out what John was saying.

“Monsieur Hami—Hernandez.”

_Nice save, Lafayette._

There was some furtive whispering, then Alex could hear Lafayette reply, “Yes, we’re talking about how you two got busy on the couch. Alexander was just telling me about how soft your lips were.”

“Lafayette!”

“Gil!”

More laughter from Lafayette.

Even if John’s realization never came, they could absolutely re-establish The Gay Trio in this lifetime between Hernandez, Lorenzo, and Guillory. Their banter was effectively the same centuries later.

“I’m leaving,” John said before shutting the door behind him with a _click_.

“Why did you have to tell him that?” Alexander groaned.

“I waited _centuries_ to pick on both of you for your queer antics,” Lafayette answered. “Let me have my fun in 2016.”

“Fine.” Alex couldn’t blame him. Though he was absolutely going to get Lafayette back for that.

_Maybe Washington is alive in this lifetime. He’d surely love knowing Lafayette named his son after him…_

“So what’s the next step?” Lafayette asked. His tone of voice was similar to when they’d be strategizing over the British and it sent a shiver down Alex’s spine.

“John asked me on a date, so perhaps more time is necessary.”

“Très bien.”

“And I plan on kissing him more.”

“Oui. Have you considered sucking him off? You know, draw out the semen, draw out John Laurens?”

It was Alexander’s turn to bark out a laugh.

“I have considered that, Lafayette. I have a couple other things I’d like to try before then.”

“Shame, because he _definitely_ wants that sooner than later. He only spends that much time in his room after a date when it went _spectacularly_.”

“Good to know.”

That made Alexander smug. His John Laurens was definitely coming to the surface because he used to do that all the time. After they’d have a coupling of any sort, John would avoid him for hours as to prevent himself from jumping Alexander and getting them both killed or castrated.

“I have work in the morning, but I’ll talk to you soon, Hamilton.”

“Talk soon, Lafayette.”

They hung up and Alex had a text from John.

 **From John Lorenzo** : _Gil is so embarrassing. I’m so sorry._

 **To John Lorenzo** : _It’s fine. I meant what I said, every bit of it._

 **To John Lorenzo** : _Your lips are so soft and delicious, John._

 **To John Lorenzo** : _Could kiss them for centuries._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _Me too, Alexander._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _God, I’ve never been this forward with someone before. There’s just something about you, Alex Hernandez._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _Can I tell you what happened after you left?_

Alex shivered. His mind raced back to the letters they used to send each other. Sultry, dirty letters that unknowing ponies had carried between New York and wherever John Laurens at the time. He loved to tease John, knowing the man preferred professionalism and not being caught, but Alexander received exactly three deeply erotic letters from John that made his body thrum with excitement. Alexander could have recited those letters by rote on his deathbed.

 **To John Lorenzo** : _Please_.

 **From John Lorenzo** : _I went back into my room_

 **From John Lorenzo** : _And I fucked myself with a dildo. Imagining it was you._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _I’ve never done that before, Alex._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _But I want that with you._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _I want to spread out beneath you and let you take me apart._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _Make me scream._

Alex couldn’t have been happier he was alone in his own apartment. His skin prickled at the image of John Lorenzo arching his back and _taking_.

 **To John Lorenzo** : _I want that too._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _I’m not usually a sex-on-the-first-date kind of man, but jfc I’d be that for you. I’d be anything for you._

Alexander’s head was swirling. John Lorenzo didn’t know how much he was like his predecessor. He had absolutely no idea the double effects his words were having on Alexander. On the one hand, this was a very attractive man, sending him filthy text messages. To most people, his rapidly hardening cock was an expected response to John’s words. On the other, Alexander was flung back to the nights he spent alone in his study, running his fingertips over John’s inked words, _aching_ for him, as he fisted himself swiftly, before Eliza could possibly interrupt. The thoughts and memories, old and new, were dizzying.

 **From John Lorenzo** : _Can our first date be tomorrow? Please? I can’t wait to see you again._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _It could be tonight for all I care._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _1:34am isn’t too late for a first date, is it?_

It was like the first time Alexander and John had met in Washington’s tent. They were introduced and began chatting aimlessly after the meeting was finished. And at first, they weren’t assigned to the same tent, but after they had become inseparable, it became clear they needed to bunk together. You know, for America.

 **To John Lorenzo** : _It just might be, John. While I admire your tenacity, I do have work in the morning. Those articles won’t write themselves._

 **To John Lorenzo** : _I will, however, be dreaming of you, and wishing you were here in my arms, your lips against mine._

 **To John Lorenzo** : _I would love to see you tomorrow. Your beauty and your charm have stolen my affections and I cannot – and will not – stop thinking about you._

 **To John Lorenzo** : _Besides, I now have an issue of my own to deal with, one I had thought I had resolved on the walk to the subway, but that has seemingly reappeared after your admission._

 **To John Lorenzo** : _Tomorrow, meet at my place and we’ll go to Coney Island. I want to know what your tongue tastes like when paired with vanilla ice cream._

 **From John Lorenzo** : _I want to know what all of you tastes like._

Sweet Jesus, John was going to be the second death of him. 

He sent John his address and added a sweet goodnight at the end, before pitching his phone into his pillow and himself into bed. It was nearly 2am and Alex had some _things_ to attend to.

* * *

 

The next day could not have moved any slower. Alexander was anxious and excited for his first date with John Lorenzo and first _official_ date with John Laurens, even if he hadn’t made an appearance yet. If the night before was any indication, their date was going to be _fantastic_.

Alex nervously shifted his weight from foot to foot as he waited for John outside his apartment building. The sun was lingering low in the sky and Alex checked his phone again. No texts, but that didn’t surprise him. There wasn’t wifi or service between stops, so John was probably on the train. Had he wanted to bail on Alexander, he would have texted earlier with something akin to, _Sorry Alex. This was a mistake._ But there was no text, no apologies. Just silence.

They had agreed on 5:30, which John said gave him enough time to get from teaching his last class at Fordham University in the Bronx to Brooklyn. Alex almost asked when that last class ended because according to his Google Maps, the commute was nearly an hour and a half. He suggested meeting John at the Ave M Q Train stop, but John insisted it was going to be a proper date and he was picking Alexander up at home.

Alexander was being properly wooed and _loving it_.

Well, aside from the minor fear John Laurens would never emerge.

At exactly 5:28pm, John Lorenzo rounded the corner from the direction of the subway stop, a bouquet of exotic flowers in his hand, and Alex’s heart melted. For anyone with a professor kink, John was a walking wet dream. His blackberry tweed sportcoat had suede elbow patches, for god’s sake. He warned Alex he’d be coming from class and for some reason Alex never expected _this_. His TAs in college _never_ dressed this well.

John tugged his earbuds out of his ears as he approached and stuffed them into a nearly exploding leather messenger bag. His face broke out into a huge grin. Alex met him at the bottom of the steps.

“Hi, John,” Alex said shyly. He didn’t know what was happening to him. He wasn’t ever like this when he and Laurens were alive the first time. What was it about this John Laurens that left him defenseless?

“Hi, Alex,” John replied warmly. He hesitated for a moment before stepping right up to Alex, placing one hand on Alex’s waist, and planting a lingering hello kiss on his lips. Alex did _not_ expect that. “Sorry, I couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth the whole day. The subway ride was torture.”

Alex stared at him dazedly.

_Get it together, Hamilton._

And by getting it together, Alex leaned back in and kissed John back a little slower and a little longer. He pulled back enough to let their noses rub together.

“I guess I’m forgiven?” John chuckled.

“I never stopped thinking about you.” You – John Lorenzo _and_ John Laurens.

John smiled broadly, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He finally produced the flowers in his hand with a flourish.

“These are for you. I bought them at my favorite bodega near Fordham and they were nearly crushed by a little old lady’s shopping bags at Grand Central Station. They shouldn’t be too battered,” John explained, examining the blooms for any wear-and-tear. They were in near perfect shape, little old ladies be damned.

“They’re beautiful, John.”

“I know it’s extremely cliché, but I just had this urge to bring you something to apologize. For what, I don’t know.”

_For not coming to my wedding night. For going to South Carolina. For getting yourself killed and abandoning me._

Alex gave him a tender smile.

“No apologies necessary. They’re perfect.” He gestured toward the front door. “Can we run upstairs so I can put them in water? I don’t think they’ll quite survive the bumper cars at Coney Island.” John laughed.

“That’s absolutely true.”

They trudged up the stairs to Alex’s apartment where his ginger cat Hamilton met them at the door. John cooed and immediately bent down to pet Hamilton, who seemed equally as interested. It was such a sweet sight, his large ginger tomcat purring and nuzzling this incredibly hot professor in his apartment. He woefully had to look away to find his one and only vase that was tucked somewhere deep in the cabinets…

“Are you into the Revolutionary War?”

Alex whipped around to see John perusing his bookshelves. He had all the major biographies on his friends and cohorts. Naturally, his enemies’ books were near the bottom, but his and his friends’ were near the top. He had quite a few of his own, Washington had an entire shelf, and Jefferson’s were literally stacked in a trashcan.

“A bit of an understatement,” Alexander said, chuckling at his own joke.

John’s fingers trailed along the spines, skimming over all of Hamilton’s biographies, before landing on one written on himself. Alex’s eyes went wide.

This was it.

John nimbly pulled the title from the shelf and stared at the cover. It wasn’t a beautiful cover, nor an accurate portrait of Laurens, but that was the best biography on him, despite glaring inaccuracies. Time seemed to slow down as John continued to stare at the cover, as if memorizing every detail. Then he looked up at Alexander with bright eyes.

_Here it is._

Alexander braced for impact…

“They just write biographies on anyone, don’t they?”

…and exhaled.

John flipped the book over in his hands.

“I’ve never heard of this guy before. Was he a Vice President or something?” John asked him, still cradling the book in his hands. Alex abandoned his hunt for the vase to join John at the bookcase. He stood closely, letting John’s warmth flood his senses.

“He was a brave soldier, an amazing writer, and a fierce abolitionist. He planned to form the nation’s first all-black regimen for the war,” Alexander said wistfully. His John was so noble and righteous. The familiar ache in his heart returned. He pulled down the best biography on himself – a beige paperback brick with one of Eliza’s favorite portraits of him. “He was also very close with Alexander Hamilton. Some say they were even lovers.”

“Well, of course,” John replied bluntly. He pointed to Alex’s portrait. “Do you see this guy? Hamilton could _get it_.” Alex snorted. It was a far too accurate statement.

“I think you’d really like John Laurens,” Alexander said, nudging John with his shoulder.

“Can I borrow both of these?” he asked, gently taking the Hamilton biography out of Alex’s hands. Alex glanced down to John’s messenger bag already bursting at the seams.

“Where are you going to fit them?” John bit his lip.

“Well, I was hoping I could leave my bag here so I could have a good excuse to come back up with you after our date.” Alexander raised his eyebrows in amusement.

“I see we have ulterior motives,” he teased.

“I wasn’t joking about the sex-on-the-first-date thing, Alex,” John said, his voice hardened. He stared at Alex intensely. Alex’s heart leapt.

“I didn’t think you were.”

John smiled slyly.

“Good.”

He leaned forward and kissed Alex. It was a sweet, gentle pressure that only made Alex really feel the softness of John’s lips. He could feel the books pressing against his abdomen, the whole of their histories literally between them.

John rocked back onto his heels and bit his bottom lip bashfully. He chuckled quietly to himself.

“Can I tell you something? And you have to promise not to laugh,” John asked reservedly. His eyes danced as they stared into Alex’s.

“Of course.”

John looked away to the bookcase, then down to the biographies in his hands.

“I kept thinking about what you said last night, how you missed me,” John began. “I think I really am reconsidering the idea of past lives. Because as much as I’m trying to chalk it up to insane chemistry and how fucking hot you are, I felt this _longing_ for you all day. I can’t explain it. Throughout all of my classes today, I couldn’t concentrate because I kept thinking, ‘I’m going home to Alex tonight.’ We’ve never lived together. Hell, we probably never met before yesterday, so _why_ would I be thinking that?”

John Laurens was standing _right there_. He knew. _God_ , John Lorenzo **_knew_**. He was _so fucking close_.

“It’s weird, right?” John asked, his voice worried.

“It’s not weird, John,” Alexander assured him. “I felt the same thing.” He kissed John one more time for reassurance. They stood there for a minute, just drinking in the energy between them. Each glimmer Alex saw of John Laurens was making him more and more impatient. He wanted his John back. He wanted to see his Love again.

Hamilton meowed loudly at Alex’s feet, breaking the spell. John drew in a deep breath. Alex cleared his throat.

“We should probably hurry up so we can get down for our dinner reservations,” John said simply, his voice tight.

“Right, of course,” Alex murmured, trying to ignore the way John’s voice sounded as if he was trying to tamper down his emotions from welling in his throat. He returned to the tiny kitchen and opened a cabinet before whipping his head back to John. “You made dinner reservations? At Coney Island?" 

“At Gargiulo’s, yes,” John chuckled, his eyes twinkling. “Where did you think I was taking you?” He dropped his bag next to Alex’s heaping desk and carefully placed the books beside it.

“Nathan’s?” Alex said, wrinkling his nose and giving a clenched smile.

John barked out a laugh.

“I am not taking a gorgeous man on a first date to Nathan’s. You have to be insane,” he replied. He paused, then: “Maybe second date.”

Alex laughed brightly. He opened another cabinet and lo, there was his vase on the top shelf, tucked behind his hand-mixer.

“Except _I’m_ taking _you_ out for the second date,” Alex corrected him as he poured water into the vase. “And we’ll do it up in the Bronx so you don’t have to travel so far.”

“I don’t mind traveling for you, Alex. I really don’t.”

“It’s only fair,” he insisted as he arranged his flowers in the vase. “Besides, I want to see where you work because I’m definitely hot for teacher.” He winked at John whose eyes widened in pleasant surprise.

“Well alright, then,” John conceded. Alex walked over to John and placed the flowers in the now vacant hole where the biographies used to be. “Though I do have to warn you, I share an office with three other TAs, so we’re going to have to keep it down.” Alex hummed in interest.

“You know I’m absolutely taking you up on that offer.”

“I hope you do,” John said with a wicked grin. Alex’s whole being itched to kiss John again. He couldn’t help himself. One more light peck to John’s lips, and John’s hands came up to touch his stomach tenderly.

“Let’s go,” John murmured against Alex’s mouth. “I want to see you lose at Skee-ball, Alex Hernandez.”

“Oh, you’re on, John Lorenzo,” Alex said challengingly. He ushered John out of his apartment and toward the stairs. As he locked the door behind him, his mind gently reminded him of John’s plan to come back later. And then of John’s promise of first-date-sex.

For as long as he was going to have to wait for his Laurens to arrive, Alexander Hamilton could definitely settle for John Lorenzo.

* * *

 

Dinner was delicious. Alex had never eaten at a sit-down restaurant at Coney Island before, so naturally he was worried there was going to be too many children and three claw machines in the waiting area. He was pleasantly wrong on both accounts. The openness of the dining area was intimidating. While Alex Hernandez had no problems exhibiting typical 21st Century public displays of affection, Alexander _Hamilton_ was having a field day every time John held his hand across the table. He kept feeling like they were about to be caught and it _thrilled_ him. He loved the fact he could easily kiss John over dinner without fear. Alexander was nearly on Cloud Nine by the time dinner was over.

The boardwalk was even better. It wasn’t very crowded considering it was a Monday night in early Spring in Brooklyn, so they managed to ride every ride at least once without waiting terribly long. Alex thrilled at all the times John rested his hand low on his back. The warmth of John’s palm through his shirt made him want to curl into John and kiss him endlessly.

Alexander touched John just as much. He couldn’t help himself from holding John’s hand as they stood in line for the roller coaster, or cozying up behind him, wrapping his arms around John’s waist, and pressing his body against John’s back, as John won him a teddy bear from a claw machine at the arcade.

The whole time he tried not to think about John Laurens.

He tried not to think about how much John would have appreciated the affection Alex was bestowing upon him. He tried not to think about how much John would love the diversity of the boardwalk. He tried not to think about how much John would have loved holding his hand and kissing him in public.

Because no one batted an eye when Alexander Hernandez kissed John Lorenzo after they ate their promised ice cream. And John Laurens would have killed for that moment.

“You taste amazing, Alex,” John murmured against his lips. They had finished their ice cream and he was crowding Alexander against a railing along the boardwalk, his hips pressed against Alexander’s. Alex could feel John’s interest through their two layers of denim and he knew it was just about time to go home and _really_ finish this date.

“What do you think about retiring to my apartment for the evening?” Alex asked, draping his arms around John’s shoulders, his new teddy bear dangling from his fingers. “You know, finish the plans you made.”

“I thought you’d never ask,” John smiled. He pecked Alex twice more on the lips, then stepped back. John took Alex’s hand in his and together, they walked down the boardwalk toward the train.

As they neared the end of Coney Island, a young man in a bright yellow t-shirt proclaiming “END SLAVE WAGES NOW” approached them.

“Excuse me, gentlemen!” he said, his voice strong and confident. “Are you voting in this year’s election?”

“We are,” Alex said, presuming John was. He quickly glanced at his companion to see John nodding his head vigorously.

“One of the things we’re trying to get on the ballot this year is forcing the governor to raise the minimum wage to a living wage by the start of 2020. I have a petition here and would urge you to sign it if it’s a position that you are passionate about,” the young man explained. Alex turned to John.

“I’ve already signed this petition,” John said simply. He squeezed Alex’s hand. “But you should definitely do it.”

Alex nodded. Of course he was going to do it. This was extremely important. The entire course of his life was shaped around politics. When he came into realization in this lifetime, Alexander Hernandez went from a kid who couldn’t care less about politics to one of the sharpest political minds on Twitter.

He let go of John’s hand and took the pen and clipboard from the bright young man. John looped his arms around Alex’s waist as he scribbled his information down, hooking his chin over Alex’s shoulder to watch.

“Ah, damn it,” Alex swore. In moments of political passion, he had found, he’d forget momentarily that he wasn’t an actual citizen – Alexander Hernandez was – and he’d sign Hamilton instead.

“I somehow signed my name wrong, sorry,” he apologized to the petitioner.

“It’s alright,” he chuckled.

John’s arms tightened around his waist as he handed the petition back to the young man.

“Thank you so much!” he said before leaving John and Alex standing still on the sidewalk. Alex tried to move, but John wasn’t letting him.

“John, are you alright?” he asked, prying John’s hands apart so he could turn and look at him _._

John’s eyes were wide, bright, focused.

Alexander felt the tingling start in his toes, then climb up his body like ivy.

_There he was._

“John?” Alexander whispered cautiously.

Tears clung to the corners of John’s eyes.

“ _Alexander_ ,” John choked out. He crashed their mouths together, kissing Alexander passionately. His fingers tightened in Alex’s clothes. Tears slipped down his cheeks. John’s hands wouldn’t stop moving. They ran over Alex’s back, stomach, chest, arms, until they finally settled in his hair, his fingers threaded through Alex’s loose locks.

All Alexander could do was hold on and kiss back. It felt like every practiced, secretive kiss they shared at Valley Forge in their shared bunk. The way John’s tongue dipped into his mouth was _very_ John Laurens. He took control like he always did and Alexander was _whining_. John let out a long, low moan that resonated from his chest. Alex could feel John’s hardening cock against his thigh where John was starting to lightly thrust.

They weren’t going to make it back to Alex’s apartment. They were definitely going to fuck right there on the Coney Island boardwalk.

Alexander pulled John’s hips flush with his, pressing his own erection against John’s, which only seemed to encourage John further.

“Get a room!” some guy passing by them yelled and started John. He rested his forehead against Alexander’s. Their breath mingled together, their labored breathing creating a warm cocoon between them.

“You’re here, you’re here, you’re here, you’re here...” John babbled.

“I’m right here, John Laurens,” Alexander murmured. John let out a choked sob, but he was smiling so bright.

“God, you said my name. Alexander Hamilton just said my name.”

It was Alex’s turn to start crying.

“And you just said mine.”

“It’s been _so long_.”

“235 years.”

John sobbed again.

“ _235 years_.”

“I missed you.”

“I missed you. I love you, Alexander Hamilton.”

“I love you, John Laurens.”

“Never stop saying my name.”

“John Laurens.”

John kissed him again, a little softer and with all the tenderness and love he could handle in that moment. He was shaking like a leaf under Alexander’s hands.

“Are you okay, John?”

“No. Yes. I just. Yes, because I’m with my Alexander. No, because I’m sobbing like an idiot. I’m sorry. This should be a happy reunion and I’m standing here _crying_ —“

Alexander pulled back to get a good look at John. His eyes were red, his cheeks were tear-stained, his lips were swollen. But there wasn’t a single part of him that wasn’t _beautiful_.

“John Laurens, if you _weren’t_ crying, I’d be worried,” Alexander assured him. John let out a small laugh. “It’s been 235 years.”

“235 years…”

Alex took a deep breath. He finally felt whole.

“What made you realize?” Alex asked tenderly.

“Your signature,” John answered. “All those letters you wrote me. Your beautiful words that were just for me.”

“All for you.”

“My Alexander Hamilton has returned to me,” John said. A broad, bright smile spread on his lips and he started to giggle from pure joy. “My Alexander is right here.”

“And your Alexander wants to take you home.”

“ _Please_.”

* * *

 

The subway ride home was an eternity despite being just as long as the ride there. It might not have been as horrible for Alex if John hadn’t set to work sucking a hickey right below his jaw. He had remembered how sensitive that spot was and how quiet Alex had to be in the dim flickering candlelight of their tent. Alexander curled his hand over John’s clothed thigh, his fingers enveloped in the hot heat between John’s legs, nestled in the folds of his jeans between his thigh and his cock.

Several people on the train stared at them but there wasn’t anything they could do. They were definitely groping each other in public, but weren’t breaking any laws.

_They weren’t breaking any laws._

Alex reveled in the realization. John was marking him for all to see. He was his and that was that.

The walk from the station to Alex’s apartment was brisk. John had taken to slipping his hand into one of Alex’s back pockets and the warmth of his palm through the thin denim spurned something animalistic in Alexander. It was the primary driving force getting him quickly to his apartment and not just hauling John into a corner and devouring him. He wanted to take John apart and wanted to take him apart properly.

John nosed as his neck as Alex fumbled with his keys, silently cursing his shaking hands. He was nervous, excited, and just so utterly _aroused_. John was standing behind him, his erection pressed against Alex’s ass and grinding. It was so distracting, but in the best possible way.

The door eventually opened and the pair shuffled inside, slamming the door shut behind them. John didn’t give Alex a chance to breathe before he was kissing him hotly, all open mouths and tongues. Laurens was always so insistent. His nimble fingers were already unbuttoning Alexander’s shirt.

Alexander didn’t want to slow down, but he barely had a moment to _think_.

“John… John!” he urged desperately. He pressed his palms against John’s chest. The contact made John stop immediately. The drunken haze cleared and John’s eyes were sharp with concern.

“Am I doing something wrong?” John asked worriedly. “I’ve only just woken up and you’re _here_ and I _missed_ you and—“ Alex kissed him softly, cutting off his words.

“There’s no rush, my dear Laurens,” he smiled. “You’re acting as if Washington were to walk in here at any second.”

John blushed. That was exactly what was happening. He dropped his forehead to Alex’s shoulder. Alexander placed a comforting hand on the back of John’s neck.

“Alexander, I’m so embarrassed,” he chuckled. He picked his head up, but was grinning under his blush. “I guess I was reacting on instinct. I felt you under my lips and hands and the last time I was able to do that—“

“Was when we were in Washington’s camp, I know,” Alex finished for him. “Trust me, the memory of our last night together kept me going for so many years, both now and then. You were so beautiful under the candlelight…” Alex brushed a stray curl back behind John’s ear.

“It helps when your lover is so attentive,” John responded sweetly. He turned his cheek into Alexander’s palm.

It overwhelmed Alex how beautiful John was. He was so different this time around. Soft tan skin smattered with freckles, lush curls, crystalline hazel eyes. It was a blessing they were finally the same height. While Alex had loved when John would lean his tall form on him during their aides-de-camp days, he was grateful he’d no longer have to crane his neck to kiss him.

John took a deep breath and leaned in to kiss Alex with such tenderness it made him shiver.

“Bed?” Alex murmured against John’s lips. John hummed in agreement.

Alex led John over to his bed in the corner and turned on the bedside lamp. John’s eyes seemed to sparkle from the warm, amber light. He gingerly pushed John’s jacket off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor. John’s fingers returned to the buttons on Alex’s shirt, plucking each individual button and opening Alex’s shirt. He ran his hands up along Alex’s skin, which grew textured with gooseflesh, and let the shirt go the same way as his jacket.

Slowly but surely, they took turns unwrapping each other and basking in the vast expanses of skin. Once they were down to their briefs, John stepped back to drink Alex in.

“I was definitely right,” he said simply. “Hamilton can _get it_.”

Alex laughed and John placed his hands back on his skin, smoothing them up and down his sides. Alex touched him in return. He couldn’t believe how toned John’s body was. His fingers traced down along John’s abs and hooked in the elastic of his briefs.

“Yeah, do it,” John whispered, encouraging him on. His hand met Alex’s on his waist and helped pull the underwear down. They pooled at John’s feet and he stepped out of them, letting the fabric join the pile beneath them.

In his naked glory, John was textbook-definition gorgeous. Alex brushed his fingers against John’s cock, the silky skin tantalizing under his touch. John breathed in deep through his nose and his eyes flickered shut.

“Oh, _Alexander_.”

“Waited a long time for this.”

“Me too.”

John’s hands curved around Alex’s hip and slipped into his underwear, cupping his buttcheek firmly. He shoved Alexander’s briefs down to the floor and suddenly they were both completely naked. John let out a shaky breath.

“Wow,” he exhaled.

“Yeah, wow,” Alex agreed reverently.

The air was heavy around them. Alexander knew he had a plan before, but now John Laurens was naked in front of him and he suddenly had no idea what do to with his hands. John was _naked_. _In front of him_.

Thankfully, John Laurens always managed to keep his head about him when Alexander Hamilton could not. He shifted past Alex and sprawled across his bed, his glorious body like a gift presented on a platter.

“Come join me, Alexander,” John said sweetly, gently taking Alex’s hand and guiding him into bed. Alex crawled onto the bed and ended up between John’s legs, his favorite place in the world. John leaned up and kissed Alexander, drawing him in. Alex lowered himself slowly, letting his full weight rest atop John. Their erections rubbed against each other and sent jolts of pleasure through Alex.

John opened his mouth and let Alex’s tongue in. He tasted delicious and warm and like home. Alex shifted his hips, grinding his hard cock against John who moaned in response. John’s legs came up and wrapped around Alex’s waist, keeping their hips pinned together.

“Fuck, Alexander,” John muttered. “You feel so good.”

“You feel incredible,” Alex echoed.

“I want you inside me,” John said bluntly. Alex pulled his head back to see John’s face, so open and honest. “I wasn’t exaggerating about yesterday, Alexander. I think I knew it was you because when you left, all I could think about was your cock inside me. This body has never done that before but _Jesus Christ_ it was like I was remembering all the times back then because I came **_so hard_** last night. And—“

Alexander kissed him passionately, shutting up his babbling. He didn’t need to hear any more. He wanted to give John the sex they always wanted to have.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, John Laurens,” Alexander growled. “I’m going to give you everything I wanted to then. All the times you begged me to fuck you harder, the times I wanted to, but was too terrified our skin would be too loud. And then you’d _moan_. God, John, I want to hear you moan my name. I want to hear you forget your own and remember only mine. One day, I’m going to take my time with you, John Laurens. But tonight, I’m going to fuck you til you scream.”

John whined loudly, the sound bouncing off the walls.

“Please, Alexander. _Please_ ,” John begged. His legs tightened around Alexander’s waist. “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.”

Alexander kissed John wetly before leaning over to the nightstand and pulling out a condom and lube. It was difficult, with John clinging to him and kissing his chest, but so worth it. He swiftly uncapped the lube and poured a significant amount in his fingers. He brought the slick digits down to John’s hole and gently pushed in with one. John moaned lowly.

“Oh, fuck,” John breathed.

Alex kissed at John’s jaw, feeling the rough stubble against his lips, as he fingered John. The warmth of his body around his finger was hypnotizing, as well as the way John’s body reacted so beautifully to the intrusion. He raked his hands up Alex’s back, his blunt fingernails scraping lightly against his skin.

“More, more,” John murmured.

Alexander was never one to deny John Laurens when he begged so prettily. He pressed in a second finger beside the first and heard John’s breath hitch beside his ear.

“Like that, John?”

“Yes, _yes_.”

He hooked his fingers and _pressed_ , pushing against John’s prostate. John keened, the move surprising him.

“ _Oh my god, Alexander_ ,” John moaned. “Now, now, now…”

In their secret trysts, Alex never had the chance to hear how much John could babble during sex. They had to stay absolutely silent to avoid detection. They had perfected non-verbal sex and it was incredible. But this? This was _far_ better.

Alex grabbed the condom from beside John and felt John’s fingers grab his.

“Not tonight,” John murmured. “I felt you bare all those years ago and I’ll be damned if the first time I feel you since is with a barrier.”

He was normally one for safe sex but there wasn’t an argument he could come up with when John’s earnest eyes were watching him.

“Okay,” Alex nodded, kissing John gingerly on the lips.

Alex poured more lube on his fingers and smeared it all over his bare cock. He shifted his knees and lined the head of his cock against John’s hole. He checked John’s face for any concern or worry or hesitation. John stared at him with such trusting eyes Alexander could cry.

Then he started to push in.

John gasped as Alex filled him with his cock. John was so _hot_ around his cock, so _tight_. It was everything he remembered and more. The feeling of his ass clenched around his cock was while physically different, still the same. The emotions that came with being inside John were never going to change. He was making love with the man he loved so dearly.

He thrust gently, letting John adjust, but when John whispered so determinedly, _“Fuck me like you always wanted to, Alexander.”_ , he lost it. Alex thrust hard, his hips slapping loud and rhythmically against John’s ass. John threw his head back and let out a long moan.

Alexander fucked John hard and fast, their slapping skin letting out a staccato beat, as he drove his cock in and out of John. It was the kind of fucking he always wanted to do alone in their cot but never happened. It was the culmination of years after John leaving – and John _dying_ – that he never had resolved. He never got to give John the love he deserved. He never got to love him like this, with reckless abandon.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” Alexander babbled hotly in John’s ear. John’s fingers scrabbled at Alex’s skin, tugging at whatever he could reach. His thighs tightened around Alex’s hips. His cock leaked with pre-come between their stomachs.

John let out a wrecked sob when Alexander kissed the spot right beneath John’s ear, the same spot that drove him wild as before. Alex could feel John tensing. He could feel his climax approaching. He held on tightly, fucking John for all he was worth.

Then John _screamed_.

“ _Alexander!_ ”

He came, his release covering both of their chests. His ass clenched around Alex’s cock and that was it for him. He came messily, leaving his semen deep inside John.

Alex’s body was thrumming in a way he hadn’t felt for 235 years.

He slumped against John, his cock still in his ass. They both were panting from exertion and passion. John managed to get a hand up to Alexander’s hair, threading his fingers through the strands, and dragged him into a sloppy kiss. It wasn’t perfect by anyone else’s standards but theirs.

As their hearts slowed down, so did their kiss and they fell into a tender embrace. Alex pulled out and he felt a trickle of his release follow. John whined at the absence. They stayed like that for a while, trading sweet kisses until the sweat cooled to their skin.

Reluctantly, Alex drew back to stare at John, his beautiful lover who had returned to him after _so long_. John smiled sleepily at him, a look he’d always give Alex after a job well done.

“I love you, John Laurens.”

“I love you, Alexander Hamilton.”

“Was that everything you wanted?”

“And more.” John closed his eyes as if he were relishing in the ache of his body. He blearily opened them again to grin cheekily at Alex. “You made me scream.”

“As promised.”

“Never leave me again.”

“Never.”

They stayed up for a while after that. They’d kiss and touch and revel in the feeling of the other there with them. At one point, Alex got up to retrieve a pint of ice cream from his freezer and together, they shared a spoon and polished off a nearly empty tub of mint chocolate chip.

It wouldn’t be until the morning when John would have his not-so-great flashbacks.

His father. His brother. His death.

But Alexander was there to hold him through the pain. And he never intended to leave.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You can follow me on tumbler @alexanderssecretboyfriend.


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